


Neptunalia

by Romanumeternal



Series: Random stories from the People's Republic of Rome [13]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Slavery, people's republic of Rome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25737286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romanumeternal/pseuds/Romanumeternal
Summary: Partially due to the recent, err, events around the world, I've been a bit stuck for writing (turns out a worldwide pandemic is not the best time to start the next literary masterpiece).This one features character's from Mossgreen's excellent 2770 AB universe, in my own People's Republic of Rome world. (Thing the Serene Empire, but with fewer Emperors and more executions). So I'm guessing this is set in an alternate history, featuring characters from another alternate history. Many thanks, of course, to Mossgreen for allowing me to borrow (again) her characters.
Series: Random stories from the People's Republic of Rome [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116372
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12
Collections: 2770 ab urbe condita - the collected fiction





	Neptunalia

The evening was warm, balmy; filled with the scent of cooking fish and the murmur of conversation. Flaming torches lined the gardens, illuminating the scene as the sun slowly slide below the horizon, and Julia Antonia Amelia Callarius smiled as she reclined on the couch she was sharing with Marius, resplendent in his crimson _Optio’s_ uniform. Two slavegirls had, she'd noticed with a secret smile, been very eager to serve him over the course of the meal, and one had gone so far as to 'accidentally' drop a tomato in his lap.

Well, she considered, at least one of the Callarius children was enjoying this. The Neptunalia, like most Roman festivals, typically was concluded with a riotous party in the evening; and indeed several of her friends had sent invites. But, alas, Prefect Tothius had already sent an invite to his good friend Senator Callarius, and a dutiful daughter had no choice but to appear alongside her father. There was no doubt that many would have leapt at such an invitation. Prefect Tothius, widely known and perhaps slightly mocked for his piety, was a former Fleet officer, and as such kept Neptunalia exceptionally well. The meal, in particular, was excellent - baked fish and seafood of all kinds, cooked to perfection right in front of them by a team of slaves; and another few slaves were playing one of those gentle melodies that never went out of fashion - Over the Sea My Love waits, We Walked by the Waves; Neptune's Song for Salacia. 

Still, she would rather have been down in Trajanopolis proper, or perhaps on one of the pleasure boats, than at this gathering. There was only so much interest she could fake in the conversations of the great and the good of the region, after all; whether it be on local politics, Republican politics, good investments, the soaring cost of property in the region or comparing summer reading lists. An hour or so ago she'd enjoyed a light flirt with one of the sons of a local Procurator, but he seemed to have drifted off when his wife appeared, which was a shame; and Aurelia, usually an entertaining friend, had recently become pregnant and had already wearied Julia's ears with baby talk earlier in the week. Glaber was meant to be here, but she hadn't seen him, and Marcella appeared deep in conversation with some other women. 

One of the slavegirls serving Marius giggled, and Julia swore she heard the words "Well, it is stuck sir...would you be able to go to the pantry with us and see if you can open it? We need a strong man to really loosen it".

She rolled her eyes at that, and even more so when Marius rose to his feet. Honestly. It was, apparently, nothing more than at most mildly rude for a man to use a slavegirl at a party, should her owner not mind (and Prefect Tothius, being a man of the world, had made it discreetly but crystal clear that he wished his guests to truly enjoy themselves) but, for some reason, the rules were different if one was a woman. 

"Sister, I'm going for a quick walk."

For a mean moment, Julia was tempted to ask to join him, but it wasn't as if denying her brother would help. She glanced at the two girls - both of them pretty, young and obviously willing enough - and shrugged. Probably, she judged, after a larger tip, and in all likelihood their overseer had made it clear it was expected. Likely they'd selected him as the most palatable option. 

Well, they had decent taste, at least, she allowed. 

"Don't make it too quick, brother" she said, and then looked straight at the slavegirls. "I'm sure your guides wish to show you all around the place." The two girls giggled and simpered; and it was not, Julia reckoned, entirely an act. Not that she much cared whether it was.

Marius chuckled, not even blushing.

"Oh, I might be a while. A guided tour...sounds exhausting" he laughed, as he walked off, and Julia again rolled her eyes. She crooked a finger at Marlia, her maid, and pointed to the fish.

"Get me some of that, girl" she said, and Marlia walked forward, leaning over, using tongs to transfer chunks of baked fish to Julia's plate, whilst Julia surveyed the gardens. Not that she was the sort to couple in pantries (unless the man in question was very good looking, like that waiter on Crete) but there was no harm in idly speculating, was there, as one might go around a clothing store without any intention of making an actual purchase?

A figure caught her eye, and she smiled. Discreetly, she kicked Marlia in the shins. 

"Goodness, he looks rather dishy, doesn't he?" said Julia, reclining on the couch. She crooked a finger. "Marls. See him?"

Marlia followed her owner's gaze. A slender, slender man, curly haired, toned if not overly muscular, in a too-tight tunic, showing off his torso to good effect.

"By the torch, domina? Next to the woman in the crimson dress?"

"A good looker"

"And a slave, domina" said Marlia, crisply. Julia smiled. 

"There's no harm in a bit of looking, is there?" asked Julia. "Know who he is?"

"Never seen him before, domina. He's owner is, I'd guess, that man, standing by the statue."

Julia blinked.

"How on Earth can you tell that?"

""Because, domina, see how he keeps glancing towards him? He's making sure his owner is not giving some subtle signal to him."

Julia took a sip of wine, narrowed her eyes, and allowed Marlia was right. 

"Good observation, Marls" she said, her eyes roaming over his body. Perhaps a little younger than she normally went for, but not by much. She chewed her lip. And it wasn't as if male slaves often had a shot at a woman of her status and looks, was it? "But I reckon I might distract him."

Marlia, of course, would never dare to speak to Julia in a warning voice. However, the tone she used was surprisingly close to such.

"Are you sure that's wise, domina? Your father might not be best pleased should you be seen speaking to a slave whom you do not know?"

Julia sniffed, and turned to face Marlia.

"Are you sure questioning me is wise, slave?" she said, calmly, a taunt smile on her face. "Your domina might feel a good whipping might remind you of your place should you venture to offer your opinions unasked again." 

Marlia paled, slightly. She had, Julia reckoned, erred on the wrong side of uppity these past couple of days, occasionally not minding her tongue as she should. Like all slaves, doubtless without constant reminders she forgot her proper station, and so, Julia felt, a reminder of her status, was rather overdue. As if it was Marlia's role to advise her - her! - on what her father might think!

"A-apologies, domina."

Julia stood up, cuffing Marlia on the back of the head, her smile softening slightly. "Though I will allow you meant it for the best." 

She set off, idly, across the lawn, taking sips from a wineglass, knowing she cut quite a figure. Her tunic was tight, a light turquoise, with silver leaves around the neckline, cascading around her breasts and down her sides. Positioned around that, and secured by a silver, dolphin shaped fibula, was her stola - an oceanic blue, in honour of the festivities, with a dull, grey border. Torchlight glittered off her rings, her necklace, and off the bronze tiara she wore in her golden hair. 

It was a casual walk, and Julia simply inclined her head slightly as she looked over the slave. She smiled in appreciation, and then casually redirected her gaze, as though she had seen something more momentarily pleasing. She raised the wineglass to her lips-

"Attractive, isn't he?"

She turned around, and shrugged, idly.

"I fear you have the advantage of me, sir" she said, allowing a slight admonition to enter her voice as she saw it was a stranger who had addressed her so.

He was tall, perhaps five or so years younger than father; trim, rather than muscular or fat. His hair was short, neatly cut, and with a slight smile on his lips, that nonetheless didn't seem to entirely reach his piercing eyes.

"My apologies. Drusus Varius Metellus" he said.

"Julia Antonia Amelia Callarius" she said, extending her hand to be kissed. Her gaze flickered to his right hand. There was a silver signet ring on the index finger, with an 'VM' embossed on it; and his blue tunic was of fine quality too; expertly fitted around his form. Not to mention the fact he owned such an attractive man...

Wealthy, at any rate, she considered. The family names were familiar, although the name itself didn't ring a bell. 

"Ah. Daughter of His Excellency, then?"

She smiled. "The very same. And the Varii Metelli...an impressive name" she said, noncommittally. Far too many, in her opinion, rich families with delusions of grandeur opted to adopt names from the antique pages of history, even if they shared about as much blood with their supposed ancestors as Marlia did. Perhaps, Julia felt, it impressed ignorant plebs, but anyone of breeding saw right through it. Drusus smiled, slightly mockingly, as though he knew what she was thinking. 

"The Varii, at least, is genuine. One of us rode with Carolus the Exalted Himself, bore His banner as He entered Nicea, and every generation since has earned glory for Rome. As for the Metelli...well, the name may be an affection, but it pleased my ancestors, and so pleases me. I think we are worthy of the name."

"To be sure" said Julia. "Quite an ancestry. Do you serve in the Senate, or Militum, or...?"

"I'm a simple, private citizen" he said; although there was no trace of modesty, false or otherwise, in his voice. "I have various business interests, and I'm honoured to sit on the board of the _Collegium Mercatorum Romanorum Servitutem._ " He paused. "But enough of me. I believe you showed some interest in my slave."

Julia elegantly shrugged. "He is attractive, and drew the eye. As, sir, you would know, having put him in that tunic." She paused, a slight smile on her lips. "I presume, sir, a Citizen such as yourself would not let a woman's...interest be widely known?"

"I should think I'd be more scandalised had you shown no interest" he retorted, and Julia's smile widened. He really was, she decided, quite charming; but with a steel behind it. "But fear not." He took a sip from his wineglass, cool eyes looking at her. "Perhaps you wish to...inspect him further?"

"I fear, sir, you are overly forward" said Julia, but without a rebuke in her tone.

"By no means. I fail to see why a man might take his satisfaction where he can yet a woman may not." He turned, briefly. "Ven! Attend me". 

"I fear my father might be scandalised by such a statement" said Julia, lightly, taking a step closer to him, perhaps slightly closer than decorum would usually allow. She cocked her head, speculatively. "And might I enquire if your wife is here?"

"Alas, I've been divorced for a while" he said. 

"A pity" said Julia, although there was no sign of regret in her voice. Both of them turned as the slave appeared. Julia, now given leave to, looked him up and down openly, a calculating gleam in her eye. "Truly a fine specimen. A worthy reflection of his owner."

"You flatter me" replied Drusus, and Julia grinned. Yes, he was perhaps double her age, but still...there was something about him. And, despite all his words about being a simple citizen, Julia knew of the Varii Metelli. An impressive ancestry. And, to have a seat on the board of the CMRS implied a substantial fortune. True, it was likely money from the slave trade, which was perhaps a little grubby, but still... _pecunia non olet_.

He, she noticed, was watching her intently too. She idly reached out a hand, running it down Ven's smooth cheek. She glanced at Drusus:

"May I?"

He nodded, and she took a step closer, running her fingers down his bare arms, feeling the muscles.

"Impressive" she chuckled, and then quickly glanced behind her, where Marlia was standing, looking forward impassively.

"Alas, my mirror is of rather lower quality. Cracked, as you will notice."

The maid's face didn't flicker. 

Drusus turned to face her. 

"She's attractive enough" he said, thoughtfully. "A slight limp, I noticed, and she either won't or can't hold her left arm straight." A slight - a very slight - note of coldness came into his tone as he addressed Julia. "Injuries?"

"Broken arm, broken leg when she was younger. Wasn't set properly" said Julia, carelessly, as her fingers moved from the arm to glide down the front of Ven's tunic. Her eyes flickered downward, and she smirked. Ven's face might have been impassive, but other parts of his anatomy were starting to respond to her touch. "Idiot tried to thieve, or something." She paused. "Or run away. I forget which."

There was an intake of breath from Drusus; and this time his voice was clipped.

"Rather excessive discipline, don't you think?" he asked. Julia turned around, surprised at the sudden lack of warmth in his tone.

Julia frowned, confused.

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"I'm all for strict discipline and keeping one's property in line. But that does seem exceptionally harsh" he said. "Even, I might venture to say, cruel. And, frankly, wasteful on your part. I've never been aware of any situation where permanently injuring one's household servants is the best course of action."

Julia stiffened, opened her mouth - and then smiled.

"Romulus Above, sir. No." She bit her lip, amused. "I am surprised, sir, that a man in your...line of work would be so sentimental. No, it was her previous owners. Whom were certainly not careful with their property. She rarely gets worse than a slap or jab from me. What kind of woman do you take me for, sir?"

**Author's Note:**

> Optio: Originally a Centurion's second in command; now used to describe a junior officer in the Militum 
> 
> Carolus the Exalted: The founder of the Second Empire, Carolus reunified the various petty Empires through a combination of diplomacy, marriage and warfare, effectively restablishing the Roman Empire as a single, unified state after more than a thousand years. His descendants ruled the Empire for the better part of three centuries before being toppled in the Revolution. As might be expected, he's regarded by almost every Roman as one of the greatest men in history, if not divinely guided or an outright demigod.
> 
> Collegium Mercatorum Romanorum Servitutem: The 'Association of Roman Slave Merchants' - a business organisation representing companies and individuals involved in the slave trade (or related activities). 
> 
> Pecunia non olet - 'money has no smell'. A quotation from the ancient Emperor Vespasian, supposedly from when he was teased for collecting taxes on the urine used for laundering at the time.


End file.
